Seaside
by Liebling
Summary: “Daddy,” she says, “Daddy says that angels watch over me.” ((Draco&Pansy)) Lovely, corny, sappy, fluffy, over-done, oddly bitter, horrendously out of character HOWEVER is with italics and bold! Wheeeee! ;)


A/N:  Just a sweet, fluffy, out of character Draco/Pansy that is both lovely and corny.  But you must forgive me…I couldn't resist.

Both are in their seventh year.

Disclaimer:  All JK's

By:  Liebling 

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They are alone.

They are alone...in more ways than one.

They sit, back-to-back up near the seaside.  And it really isn't the seaside, it just sounds prettier if you say it as such.  He's looking whimsical, as though he's thinking about the future and she sighs.  You can tell she's thinking of flouncy, multi-layer dresses and clear nailpolish on long fingernails.

There's a lot of silence during these sort of things.

He looks up at the sky, it's raining, but just slightly.  Like crystal tear drops of angels long gone.  But he doesn't think of it like that.  She does.

She's always been a horrid romantic inside.

Her ebony hair is matted to her head and it's almost become wavy--curly---like sausages dripping in fat.  It's the colour of spilled ink on floured parchment...and it isn't really a pretty color.

Sugary blond hair dipped in more sugar, frosting.  The wind blows his hair into his diamond eyes, and he blows it away with a gust of air.

He wonders sometimes if she's looking at the same sky...she is...but she isn't looking at in the same way.

_"Malfoy?"_  She says ever so quietly.

_"Yeah?"_

_"Think God's up there?"_

And it's **so terribly innocent** that he cringes at the words, but she makes it sound almost harsh.  Almost cold.  Almost like something a Slytherin would say but sweetness thrown in for affect.

Pausing and wondering if he ought to answer the question or let it lie he turns his head back up to the misty sky.  He can almost imagine angels singing mournful songs and blowing out hopes and dreams.

...and it doesn't sound too morbid to him, either.

_"Pansy,"_ he says in an overly, unnecessary condescending tone.  _"Whatever sort of answer you want, I've no clue, actually I do.  You want me to say I believe in God and that we'll live eternally forever and 'ever' in Heaven, don't you?  You want me to say that dying isn't really the end, don't you?  Well guess what Parkinson,"_ he spat bitterly, _"something's really do end.  Something's don't last forever and something's are just myths that people create to give them false security.  And something's,_" he says, even more nastily, _"cannot be mended."_

He looks angry, almost.  But he looks too handsome to be angry, so he settles on a placating smirk and a glare in her roundabout direction.  She brings a porcelain hand up to her mouth and responds dryly.

_"So that's it, is it?"_

He thought she would quite like to slap him, but for no particular reason.  Maybe because everything Pansy Parkinson was brought up with taught her that nothing and everything is forever and so innately she rebelled and decided to believe the most unbelievable thing ever.

God.

But she wasn't even so sure if she believed in---that---anymore for it too would pass, like just about, well everything that had ever mattered to her.

It was hard to believe that at one point the relationship between Pansy Roselyn Malfoy and Draco Henry Malfoy was at one time ripe.  Very ripe.  Filled with laughter and giggles and screaming.  Sometimes even skipping, or tripping first years, words, no secrets.

It was dry now.

Emotionless, almost.

So when they were together, Pansy always thought she'd like it lots better to truly be alone.

But never mind that.

_"Yeah,"_ he says as he raised his brows, _"that's it, Parkinson."_

_"I mean,"_ she says, perhaps awkwardly, _"that's...that's nice."_

He laughs at how ugly the words sound together and how undignified she sounds, but then promptly closes his mouth with a sputter and a gulp of firewhiskey. 

_"Who told you about God?"_  He asks sourly, after another short, bitter silence.

_"Daddy," _she says, _"Daddy says that angels watch over me."_

_"When you're sleeping?"_  Draco asks, entertained.

_"And when I'm not,"_ she says with a short smile, _"and when I'm not.  He says that...angels just want to protect everything that is special to someone.  He said I was special to him...and that he hired the angels..."_ she gives Draco a short smile.

_"How old were you?"  _He asks quickly. _ "How old?"_

_"Oh I was a child,"_ she says foolishly, _"but...but he wrote me a note yesterday, and he always says it at the end of his letters to me.  He always says that...that faith is what keeps a person going."_

_"Your Father?"_  Draco asks incredulously.  _"Said that?  I mean, really Parkinson, Mr. Parkinson?"_

_"Oh part of Daddy very much so believes it,"_ she says, almost caustically.  _"But he got in a habit of telling me that as a child...and he mustn't stop it now...I think he sort of talked himself into it, really."_

He looks back at the sky and the mist is coming down heavier.  He abruptly stands up and pulls her up.  She dusts off her maroon skirt and he grabs her tiny hand.  She smiles daintily up at him and he returns it with a weak smile.

_"Malfoy,"_ she says softly, _"forever doesn't end...and sometimes holding hands really does mean you're in love."_

He laughs a hollow little laugh and looks down at the little girl.  **_"Oh yeah, and angels sing Christmas carols and pour rain on innocent bystanders just to see them kiss, right?"_**

_"Right,"_ she says with a coy smile.

And he takes her up in his arms and kisses her.

Just like the angels would have liked.

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La Fin 


End file.
